


you're not rid of me

by the_other_lutece_sister



Series: propunk one-shots [3]
Category: Orphan Black (TV), propunk - Fandom
Genre: F/F, Torture, propunk - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-06
Updated: 2016-07-06
Packaged: 2018-07-21 21:14:09
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 656
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7405066
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_other_lutece_sister/pseuds/the_other_lutece_sister
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rachel tortures Sarah...that's basically it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	you're not rid of me

Sarah wakes up, fluttering eyelids, and dried saliva in the corners of her mouth. There was light, glass, silence. There was pain, in her back, her face, her leg. There was Rachel Duncan, sitting on the side of the bed. 

 

Sarah sits bolt upright, or tries to. As if she would be left unrestrained, free to hobble her way out the door. Her eyes wheel around the room, searching for a crack, a hole, a secret doorway, anything. She pulls at the cuffs, cold metal biting at her wrist bones. Finally, she looks at Rachel.

 

Rachel looks back at her with the barest hint of a smile. Sarah goes still, instincts screaming at her to run! Hide! She’d never actually been afraid of Rachel before. Now she was terrified, and Rachel was just  _ looking _ at her and what did she  _ want _ , what did she want  _ now _ ?

 

“I had that dream again,” Rachel states, as she pulled the covers down to expose Sarah’s bare legs, the bloodstained bandage no longer fresh. Her hands started unwinding the gauze, yanking it when the dried blood made it stick together. Sarah watched her wordlessly, trying not to wince.

 

“There are two swans. A white swan and a black swan. Have you ever seen a black swan, Sarah? It used to be thought an impossible thing.” Her hands moved and the knife wound was uncovered. She looked at it appraisingly. Ran her fingertips over it gently, almost lovingly. Sarah gritted her teeth. Then she hissed as Rachel pressed her thumb down, sending a bright-red pain through her entire leg.  

 

“Two swans, and they fight. Have you ever seen swans fight, Sarah? It can be quite brutal.” She pressed down again, watching Sarah’s face as it contorted. Her small smile stayed exactly the same as she stopped, dipped a washcloth in a bowl of steaming water, then softly dabbed the jagged skin. “Deadly, even.”

 

Sarah tried to shove the pain away, but it stubbornly clung to her, leaving her raw and delirious. She laughed breathlessly.

“Bloody hell, Rachel. If you’re going to kill me, just -”

 

She raised an eyebrow, pausing the cleansing of the wound.

“Am I going to kill you?” She resumed her actions with the washcloth. “Oh but Sarah, you’re much more amusing alive. And caged.” Rachel laid the washcloth over the open wound and then dug her fingers in, eyes avidly taking in Sarah's writhing, her other hand on Sarah's other thigh. 

 

It took every inch of Sarah's strength not to scream but she let out a gurgled cry as Rachel stopped pressing down, and dabbed the wound again, then sprayed it with antiseptic. 

 

“Mmm,” she hummed, wrapping a new length of gauze around Sarah's thigh, the bandage a fresh and sterile white. The old one was dumped in the bowl with the bloodstained water. She ran her hand down the left thigh again, nails tracing the unblemished skin. Sarah watched her, eyes wary, willing away the goosebumps that appear in the wake of Rachel’s fingers. She tensed as the hand moves back to the right thigh, circling around the knife wound. 

 

Sarah squeezed her eyes shut for a moment, then swallowed and said haltingly -

“Rachel... _ please… _ ”

 

Rachel arose, moved the bowl over to a table, stood over Sarah, looked down at her. Her hand rested on Sarah's forehead for a moment, like a nurse checking a temperature. Then she ran her hand down her face, and settled just around her throat, Sarah's pulse jumping under her fingers, her other hand back on the wound. She  _ leaned _ on it and Sarah screamed this time. Rachel thought she had never looked so beautiful.

  
  


“Every night, the same dream, Sarah. A white swan and a black swan fight.” she continued as the scream quietened into gasping breaths. Her hand tightened on Sarah's throat and she tilted her head upwards, forcing her to meet Rachel's eye. 

 

“Which swan do you think wins?”

**Author's Note:**

> Oh, you're not rid of me  
> Yeah, you're not rid of me  
> I'll make you lick my injuries  
> I'm gonna twist your head off, see
> 
> Till you say don't you wish you never never met her?  
> Don't you don't you wish you never never met her?  
> Don't you don't you wish you never never met her?  
> Don't you don't you wish you never never met her?  
>  -Rid of Me, PJ Harvey


End file.
